Spotlight
by chinarai
Summary: When Marinette is presented with the chance to be an intern at Gabriel, there is no way she can turn it down, especially when the one to offer it is Adrien himself
Hey, so, it's been uuh years. I deleted the first author's notes, teamed up with my dear friend Sam (kintsugie on tumblr), and now we're going to finish this adrinette goodness! We revamped the first chapter and changed some things (mainly their age).

We're not making any promises regarding the schedule of updates and the chapters are still named after red/pink shades. If you want to talk with me, you can find me at chatlicious on tumblr.

Though this is a collaborative effort, I still dedicate this to Sam, who I love so much and couldn't do this without her. Thank you for putting up with me all these years.

Enjoy!

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 **i: pink**

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The district is much too crowded that afternoon as Marinette weaves her way through the people on the sidewalk. It would be much easier for her if some actually paid attention to where they were going, sparing her from having to step aside and evade an elbow to the ribs as a woman rummages through her purse. Groups of friends stop by displays to do some window-shopping and end up occupying too much space on the sidewalk. A businessman engrossed in the conversation he is having on his phone doesn't notice as his case nearly knocks her purse out of her shoulders, and some people actually think it's a good idea to walk their dogs in the fashion district. One of them gets its leash tangled around her legs and Marinette longs to return to the quietness of her home.

It is summer and they are in vacations, the sun shining brightly from above and white fluffy clouds dancing in the sky for most of the days. It would be the perfect day to go out for a walk or gelato with her best friend, Alya, were she not away in Martinique spending some quality time with her family in the clear waters of the beach. She makes sure to snap pictures and send to her every chance she can, but also laments the fact that Marinette couldn't accompany her to watch all the drop-dead gorgeous guys in tight speedos that linger around.

That leaves Marinette mostly alone throughout the first two weeks of vacation, working her shifts in the bakery and thinking of the next semester of fashion school. She uses all the free time in her hands to wander through these very streets and browse the internet looking for inspiration for new pieces. The walls of her bedroom are covered in colorful sketches of dresses and suits, and she has a pile of sketchbooks that don't have one blank spot left.

She has just finished the perfect sketch of the perfect dress and needs to find the perfect fabric to start working on it... As soon as possible. Her hands are already itching to measure every inch of it and start sewing a fancy gown she will most likely never wear thanks to the lack of invitations she got for big events – but, she thinks with a growing smile, making the dress is the most important part of it all. Of course, she will love it if she gets the chance to wear it. Unless she gets an invitation to a wedding, though, there's no place where she can go.

Her mind starts wandering as a dreamy look crosses her face, making her eyes shine as she daydreams, joining the people in the crowd that are walking at a slow pace. Marinette can picture it already, dressing the mannequin set in the corner of her bedroom. Her best piece. She is thinking of buying cerulean or teal fabric. The lace in these colors with silver jewelry will look simply divine, but maybe it is too much blue, what with her eyes and hair. Maybe red? A dark shade, like maroon or carmine, with gold jewelry... Very, very fancy. Red carpet worthy. What about pink? If she finds a beautiful lighter shade, the dress will be perfect for wearing on daytime events.

As lovely as it is, her thoughts shatter at the sound of a loud shriek that resonates in the street. Blue eyes snap open to see the people before her open way to a running man, a red leather purse held tightly under his arm as he races in her direction. A little ways behind him, a dark haired woman screams for help, waving a hand in the air and pointing at the man with the other. It doesn't take a genius to know that this man has just robbed the woman, but it takes courage to do something about it. Luckily, Marinette feels it running through her veins as she's filled with a sudden bolt of bravery.

Stepping slightly aside, a hiss escapes her mouth as her shin collides with the man's, making him lose his balance, and the bag flies out of his grasp a few steps ahead. She does not waste time in nursing her injured shin, and instead moves forward and snatches the purse away before he can make a move, sliding backwards to hide among the people watching so he will not see her face and try to pursue her later. Marinette hugs the purse to her chest and lowers her head as security men from a nearby shop arrive and arrest him on the spot.

Away from the commotion, she sees the woman recomposing herself, her shoulders drooping in relief when she spots the object in her hands. Something about her is familiar, but Marinette stomps it down and offers her the purse with smile. "Here, madam."

The woman clutches the purse to her chest for a brief moment, before straightening up and dusting away imaginary dust from her dark blazer. "Thank you so much, young lady." She fixes her up-do next, a severe bun at the top of her head that has no stray hairs in sight whatsoever. "I am in your debt."

Marinette really does not want to scrutinize the woman until she feels uncomfortable, but something tells her she's seen her before. She just doesn't know where.

"Are you done now, Nathalie?" She jumps a little and the woman before her tenses briefly. Marinette hadn't noticed the luxurious car parked by their side, and the dark window rolls down to reveal the owner of the bored, clipped voice that addressed the woman before her. Her name and the grave face of the man inside strike a chord and Marinette realizes exactly who they are.

She doesn't need to turn around to know that she's standing outside Gabriel Agreste's fashion company. Him inside the car and his assistant standing across from her are proof enough. Her eyes widen marginally, but otherwise she keeps her composure in check, only gripping the strap of her purse tightly to reign her nerves. Marinette feels self-conscious because she's sure her hair is a wild mess after all the walking she's been doing for the past hour. It's been so long since she last saw any of them from this close, it's no wonder she didn't recognize Nathalie at first.

"Forgive me, sir." Nathalie bows her head for a moment and then gestures towards her savior. "Your documents are safe thanks to this girl."

Marinette grows still under his cool blue-eyed gaze, silver hair shining where sunlight touches it. It does not take her long to snap out of it and bow in embarrassment. She greets him in a surprisingly steady voice as her fingers curl inwards into her sweaty palm. Straightening up, she presses her fists against her thighs and stands there under their heavy gazes awkwardly, unsure if she should say something else or just take her leave. Much to her horror, she can swear she feels another pair of eyes falling on her and she struggles not to squirm.

"Marinette?"

The woman in question snaps her eyes back to the car and looks past Gabriel Agreste. Beside him, his son is leaning forward slightly to catch a better glimpse of her, and she feels her breath being stolen away. She's seen him in magazines and on the tv as years passed, but seeing him personally she can safely say that the years did him good. The sharpness of his jaw drove away all traces of childhood and he no longer looks like the pretty, soft boy he used to be. He's much too handsome and _hot_. His golden hair is combed neatly and she had forgotten how _green_ his eyes are. Marinette swallows and gives him a tentative smile, feeling some heat crawling up her neck as her mouth goes dry.

His smile is gentle, the same one from her hazy memories of high school. "Thanks for your help. My father's work is in that bag."

Nathalie studies her in silence, eyes sweeping over the loose hair and the set of her shoulders. "Did you attend to school with Adrien?"

"Yes, she used to be my class mate." The younger Agreste replies, his green eyes sliding towards his dad's assistant as if he knew the girl in question would not be able to respond coherently so soon. "She won the hat design contest. Hey, by the way, are you still into fashion?"

Marinette's heart jerks in surprise when he looks in her direction again. "Ah, actually yes. I'm going to fashion school."

Adrien blinks at her slowly and his face brightens up, tilting towards his father whose patience is surely slipping away. "Do you think you can offer her an internship for saving your papers?"

She holds her breath and watches both father and son sitting inside the car, the latter glancing at the other expectantly. An internship? In Gabriel Agreste's company? Work for her biggest role model and learn from the best of the best? Have Adrien offer this opportunity to her? Marinette hides her hands behind her back to hide their shaking and concentrates on breathing in deeply to keep her brain well oxygenated and avoid a possible shut down. She's sure she's not imagining the spinning of her head and the last thing she needs now is to faint on the sidewalk before her idol, her high school crush and Nathalie.

Gabriel only twists his lips as if in displeasure, the act making his son slide back into the seat with a nearly defeated look on his features. "I'll leave that to your hands, Nathalie."

All this because she saved a bag on impulse. Her shin is still throbbing and will be swollen for some time undoubtedly, but this pays off.

"Yes, sir."

Marinette has only a short time to see a full-blown grin bloom on Adrien's lips as the assistant passes a folder to the fashion designer. The windows roll up, the model bids her a muffled farewell before the car pulls away and speeds down the street, leaving both women alone on the sidewalk staring after it.

Nathalie zips her purse closed, placing it on the crook of her left elbow and looks down at the girl – no, woman with a professional gaze. "So, Miss...?"

Her head whips back in her direction and she pats her head to tame her hair. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Miss Cheng," her lips twitch in what the girl guesses is an attempt at a smile. "Let's go inside so we can talk more formally. Do you have a sketchbook with yourself?"

"I always carry it with me, Miss Sancouer." Her mind helpfully supplies her with Nathalie's last name and uncovers many embarrassing memories of things she had done around Adrien, effectively making her want to crawl into a hole.

"Good." Her attempt at a smile is slightly bigger this time and her heels click on the ground whilst she moves towards the glass doors to her right. "That's a very good thing to hear."

The doors slide open, and a gust of cool air and by two burly security men greet them at the entrance. Marinette tries to be discrete glancing around the first floor, taking it all in. The walls are white, round marble columns line their way to the front desk. The name of the brand, _Gabriel_ , written in his fancy golden cursive letter hangs above the two people sitting behind the counter. The furniture is black for contrast and the air smells fresh and expensive somehow, something she cannot quite describe. There are some abstract paintings on other walls and equally abstract statues on tables by the couches in the waiting room. The few flowers in vases are red roses and they all look freshly picked. Nathalie leads her to the elevator to the right and presses the button to the last floor. Marinette is nearly bouncing on her heels whilst gnawing on her lower lip, wondering just how she was caught in all of this. What were the odds, she repeats to herself, what were the odds?

The ride up is slow and there is no stereotypical elevator music to soothe her nerves. She wants to ask many things, but bites her tongue to keep the throng of questions to herself. She does not think she will learn directly from Gabriel Agreste himself, but she is so eager to start the internship and meet everyone else! Who's going to be her tutor? Has she heard of them? Marinette feels like she's fourteen again.

Nathalie is typing away at her tablet with disinterest when the doors open and they step directly into a room with two empty desks – one is most likely hers, she figures – and another one separated by glass walls and doors – Gabriel's, Marinette realizes dazedly. Perhaps she should excuse herself to the restroom and splash some water on her face. This feels too much like a dream and she will be sorely disappointed if she wakes up.

Nathalie seats on her chair and motions for the girl to sit across from her, keeping her small smile polite as her hand hangs between the two of them, silently asking for her sketchbook, which is placed on her awaiting palm in the next second. She flips through the pages, her eyes carefully neutral to all she sees. "Truly, you're a great artist. It was fair that you won the hat contest." Marinette beams at her, and Nathalie slides a folder in direction over the polished tabletop. "Please, bring all documents needed until Friday so you can start on the next week. Inside you'll find a file that gives a brief overview of the inner workings of this company."

"Yes, understood, Miss Sancoeur." She nearly hugs the folder to her chest. "Thank you so much for this."

"It was my pleasure. Do you need me to accompany you to the front door?"

"Oh, please, I don't want to bother you more than I already have." Marinette stands from her chair and accepts her sketchbook back. "Thank you, again. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," Nathalie replies with a half-hearted wave and turns back to her work without sparing her another glance as she enters the elevator.

During the ride down to the first floor, Marinette steps back to support herself against the wall, looking up at the ceiling with starry eyes and a big smile on her lips. If she spaces out for too long, she can swear she will start drooling. This is real, the weight of the documents in her hands are proof of that. She can hardly wait for the opportunity to call Alya and tell her about this. And her parents! They'll be so happy to hear that she was granted this opportunity! They know how much she loves fashion and how this can help shape up her future.

The doors slide open with a ding and the girl steps out from the elevator still in a haze. She waves goodbye to the receptionists and smiles politely at the security men standing by the front doors. The heat that greets her outside the company does little to wake her from her still dreamy state and Marinette feels like she is fluttering on the streets instead of walking, heading back to the bakery and forgetting the reason why she had gone out in the first place. The fabric, her perfect dress, can surely wait.


End file.
